


Cuts and Bruises

by MadMothMadame



Series: Friends are the Family You Choose [5]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis, 幽☆遊☆白書 | YuYu Hakusho: Ghost Files
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Angst, But at least Kurama is around to make things better, But for real tho, Friendship, Gen, Hello again to my fellow misfits, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Right?, These boys make me sad, This one is also short, right??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:20:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23196187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadMothMadame/pseuds/MadMothMadame
Summary: “I would never have pegged you for a tennis fan,” said Kurama, bemused.Yusuke huffed a laugh, which hurt his ribs, but he tried not to let it show. From the sharp look Kurama sent him, he hadn’t been successful. Feeling awkward and exposed, Yusuke pulled out his pack of cigarettes. He slapped them against his palm a few times before pulling one out and lighting up.“I’m not really,” Yusuke said, answering Kurama’s previous comment.“And yet, here you are.”Yusuke shrugged. “I’ve got a friend out there.”
Relationships: Echizen Ryouma & Urameshi Yuusuke
Series: Friends are the Family You Choose [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1482518
Comments: 23
Kudos: 86





	Cuts and Bruises

Ryoma’s prefectural tournament was today, Yusuke realized as he woke up with a groan. He still ached all over from the beat down Hiei had given him two days ago. Botan had returned to the Spirit World taking her fancy healing powers with her. Yusuke had thought about asking her to heal him before she left, but she had looked exhausted from keeping Keiko’s eye shut and erasing her memory of the traumatic experience, and it wasn’t the worst beat down he’d ever received (though it was quite high up on the list). Point was, he wasn’t going to die. He’d just spent the last few days licking his wounds in the pseudo-privacy of his bedroom.

Ryoma had come by yesterday, looking to go running to burn off his pre-tournament nerves. Yusuke had begged off, still smarting more than he wanted to admit. The kid had stuck around for a bit, mostly to rag on Yusuke for smoking and being lazy, but he’d wrung a promise out of Yusuke that he would swing by the tournament.

Okay, so maybe Ryoma just mentioned it in passing, but Yusuke was getting better at speaking Ryoma-nese. The kid wanted him to come, so Yusuke would be there.

If he could convince himself to get out of bed that is. He felt like one big bruise.

Nonetheless, he made himself get up and get dressed. His mom was passed out on the couch when he ventured out. She had checked on him a few times to make sure he wasn’t dead again, but had mostly left him alone; she was used to him being black and blue.

There was nothing in the fridge but beer, but Yusuke found a bit of loose change in his pocket. He decided to swing by the vending machine and get going.

The tennis courts where the tournament was were the same ones where he and Ryoma had first met, which made it easy to find, but finding the court where Seigaku was playing turned out to be more challenging. There were at the least a dozen schools here. Outside of school, Yusuke had never been around so many kids his own age. He hadn’t bothered to do his hair though, which combined with his sunglasses seemed to keep him relatively incognito, which was nice.

The doubles matches were still going on by the time he found the right game. Yusuke only vaguely recognized the boys on the court. Yusuke watched with half of his attention as he finished slurping down the cup of soup he’d bought. The match was over by the time he’d finished and chucked the empty cup. He leaned against the fence and only half watched the next match. It was too weird for him to really follow, something about rhythm and snakes? He was just pleased he could tell who won before the match was over.

Ryoma was up next. He nodded at Yusuke, pleased to see him. Yusuke waved back, ignoring how his bruised-self’s complained at the movement before he settled back against the chain-link fence.

The match was kind of boring by Ryoma’s standards. The other guy was good, but Ryoma was clearly in better shape than him. Unless Ryoma’s opponent had something up his sleeve, the match would be over quickly.

Yusuke felt a presence behind him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he felt his shoulders tense.

“Good morning.”

Yusuke looked over his shoulder and relaxed. It was just Kurama.

The redhead looked relaxed in casual clothes of a turtleneck and blue jeans with his hands in his pockets. He seemed to be fully recovered from his stomach wound, which meant he was either a really good liar, or Yusuke had a very good reason to be jealous. Yusuke would bet it was both.

“Hey, Kurama. How are you?” Yusuke greeted the fox with a smile. He hadn’t really expected to see Kurama again, let alone so soon.

“I’m doing well, thank you,” Kurama said as he stepped forward to be equal with Yusuke at the fence, “And yourself? I trust you are recovering?”

“Eh, I’m alright. Still sore, but what can you do,” said Yusuke, going back to watching the game. It was starting to get interesting. Turns out Ryoma’s opponent had something up his sleeve after all. Ryoma looked seriously annoyed as his hand went numb out from under him.

“I would never have pegged you for a tennis fan,” said Kurama, bemused.

Yusuke huffed a laugh, which hurt his ribs, but he tried not to let it show. From the sharp look Kurama sent him, he hadn’t been successful. Feeling awkward and exposed, Yusuke pulled out his pack of cigarettes. He slapped them against his palm a few times before pulling one out and lighting up.

“I’m not really,” Yusuke said, answering Kurama’s previous comment.

“And yet, here you are.”

Yusuke shrugged. “I’ve got a friend out there,” he said, nodding to Ryoma, who wasn’t paying them any attention. All of his attention was focused on his opponent. He had his fighting face on, which meant that it would be a game worth watching.

“So, how did you find me?” Yusuke asked as the silence had started to feel strained.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I followed your scent.”

“… That’s kind of gross.”

“Not at all. To demons at least, it is in essence your fingerprint. We notice it in the same way you notice distinct facial features. It’s no more offensive than an eye color.”

“If you say so,” Yusuke said. He took another drag off his cigarette. He watched the game for a bit. It went back and forth. Yusuke watched as Ryoma tried a few different things to try and break his opponent’s spot technique.

Yusuke saw it before it happened. Ryoma tried to spin his body to compensate for the numbness in his wrist. He must have put all of his force behind it because the racket, having left his hand, hit the bar holding up the net and shattered. The fractured grip flew back towards Ryoma’s face. The jagged side caught the twelve-year old just above the eye.

The kid went down, clutching his head in a way far too similar to when Yusuke and Ryoma had first met. Yusuke knew it hadn’t got him in the eye; he had tracked the path of the handle without trouble. He also knew that most of the racket’s momentum had been lost when it broke, and that the cut would be shallow and not result in a concussion. Still, as he watched Ryoma be taken off the court and be fussed over by his teammates, Yusuke felt his adrenaline rise, ready to fight.

Kurama’s hand settled on his shoulder. Yusuke forced himself to take a deep breath and relax.

“He’ll be fine. The wound is not deep,” said Kurama. His voice was soothing, and Yusuke found himself nodding. He may have only known Kurama for a few days, but they had spilled blood together. Kurama had saved his ass. If he hadn’t come and weakened Hiei, the demon would have killed Yusuke with very little effort, Yusuke had no doubt.

“Not that it’s not nice to see you, but what the hell are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with your mom or something,” he asked after he’d let out a breath of smoke.

“My mother can do without me for a few hours. She is very much recovered,” Kurama paused, seemingly unsure of what to say. “It has occurred to me that I have yet to say, ‘thank you.’”

“What?” Yusuke asked, not really understanding.

“For my mother. Your actions with the Forlorn Hope. You saved my life without any hesitation and I didn’t even say thank you,” Kurama insisted.

“Are you kidding me?” Yusuke asked. It looked like dressing Ryoma’s wounds would take a while, so he turned to face the red head full on. “You saved me three days ago with Hiei.”

Kurama shook his head.

“Even in that, my motives were somewhat self-centered. If Hiei had succeeded, the repercussions would have been profound. As I was his accomplice, they would no doubt have touched me. Helping you bought myself some amity with Spirit World.”

He seemed to be waiting for a response, so Yusuke nodded. He still wasn’t clear on what Kurama wanted.

“You saved my life without hesitation and to no profit of your own. That is unheard of among demons and incredibly rare amongst humanity. I find myself in your debt. Anyway, I can repay you, you need only ask. If it is in my power, I will make it so.” 

The redhead’s words seemed to echo as the world around them held its breath. Yusuke didn’t have any idea what Kurama was truly capable of, but from the way the world seemed to shudder at the weight of his words, he didn't particularly want to find out.

Yusuke sighed heavily and went to take another drag, frowning when he found the cigarette nearly extinguished. He flicked the butt away, sending it flying neatly to a nearby waste can, speaking of far too much practice. He pulled out another one and lit it. He sucked in a deep breath and felt the nicotine settle his bones.

Kurama’s eyes never left his face.

“…Don’t worry about it,” Yusuke said.

“Excuse me?” Kurama asked. He seemed very surprised. The atmosphere immediately lightened.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. It was pretty stupid of me anyways, but I’d do it again, no question, so, no thanks necessary.”

It looked like Ryoma was going to play again with a ridiculous eye patch, and Yusuke was glad for an excuse to move away from this conversation. He had never really had someone in his debt before. He decided he didn’t like it. It made him extremely uncomfortable. 

He hoped that Kurama would move the subject along, but silence dragged out so long that Yusuke had the urge to fidget. He was thankful for his cigarette. At least it gave him something to do with his hands. He turned his attention to the game that was about to renew in front of them. 

He let out a puff of smoke. At least Ryoma was finally giving his best. Yusuke had been getting bored. 

“You are a remarkable person, Yusuke Urameshi,” Kurama said, causing Yusuke to look over, startled. The red-head was smiling softly at him. “I am glad to have met you. I hope to see you again someday, if our paths should cross.”

Yusuke grasped the chain-link fence, ignoring the burning cigarette in the same hand as he turned to watch the older boy walk away and vanish into the crowd.

A cheer came up from the courtside. Yusuke looked back. Ryoma had won his match and was looking smug. He caught Yusuke’s eye and flashed him a thumbs up, which Yusuke returned. Ryoma scowled when he caught sight of the cigarette in Yusuke’s other hand. Rolling his eyes, Yusuke brought it to his mouth, and was unsurprised when a tennis ball hit the fence with enough force to bounce the chainlink into his hand, knocking the cigarette out of it. 

Granted, he should have seen that coming.

It wasn’t worth lighting another one. Ryoma’s teammates met him on the court, cheering and giving the freshmen aggressive pats on the back, but some were looking over at him. Ryoma had clearly directed attention to him, and Yusuke began to feel the hairs on the back of his neck rise in earnest. He didn’t particularly want to be recognized, so he decided to catch up with Ryoma later. The boy had more than enough people engulfing him already. He’d hardly notice Yusuke’s absence.

He turned to leave, stretching his arms to lace his fingers behind his head. It took some of the pressure off his ribs that way.

He got halfway out of the park when he heard someone calling his name. Looking back, he saw Ryoma, sprinting to catch up. 

“Hey, kid,” Yusuke said as Ryoma got closer. “Good game.”

“Thanks,” said Ryoma, pulling the brim of his cap down and smirking. It scrunched his bloody eyepatch a bit, and Yusuke nodded to the injury.

“You gonna be alright?” He would be, Yusuke already knew, but still. Better to check.

Ryoma nodded, but didn’t elaborate. Instead, he asked, “Where are you going?”

“Echizen!” 

Ryoma turned back. Momoshiro, and some of the other Seigaku players had apparently chased after him. They came up short at the sight of Yusuke, unsure.

“You should head back. Celebrate with your team and all that shit,” Yusuke said, leaning back a bit with his hands still linked behind his head. He looked up at the sky. It was late in the afternoon. He idly wondered how he would spend the rest of his day. Probably sleeping, or maybe trying to drum up a place to make some dough.

“Come with us?” Ryoma asked, drawing Yusuke’s attention back to him.

Yusuke actually thought about it. It might be nice. Then he thought about his and Momoshiro’s first meeting. He looked over Ryoma’s shoulder, at the anxious eyes of his classmates and teammates looking after them, a few clearly recognizing Yusuke.

“Nah, that’s okay. You have fun though.”

Ryoma clearly didn’t like the answer, but didn’t argue.

“You’re still coming to Universal Studios, right? Mom says we can pick you up next Saturday morning.”

Yusuke had almost forgotten, what with all the excitement. The world almost being subjugated by three thieving demons who stole the Armageddon toolkit kind of put things in a different perspective. He had been unlikely to live past three days anyways, so things like “plans for next weekend” had kind of slipped his mind.

“You serious?” he said. “I can’t wait. What time?”

Ryoma’s face soured. “Before eight. We’re taking the 8:30 train from Maihama Station.”

Ryoma hated mornings almost as much as Yusuke did, but if there were roller coasters involved, they would suffer together. Yusuke nodded.

“I’ll be ready,” he promised. “Now, go celebrate. I’m going to go back to bed. Need to rest up for the weekend.”

Rolling his eyes, Ryoma turned back to his friends. Yusuke watched him go, watched them embrace him and haul him back to the rest of his team. He smiled with just a hint of wistfulness, before heading home.

**Author's Note:**

> *Waves shyly*
> 
> Two parts in one night. Whatever shall we do?
> 
> But seriously, it was really exciting to see a few people give these little one shots a try. These two were really short, whereas the next few are a bit longer so I'll need a bit of time to polish them up before I shout them into the void, but I love you all. 
> 
> Please comment if you like these. It makes me feel less alone lol.


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